my peace with europe

"Every American who wants to know who he is must make his peace with Europe."

-Crossing to Safety, p254

two weeks. Two weeks left of my internship and three weeks left in Switzerland and I'll be leaving on a jet plane back to America.

This realization has induced a quiet, but steady thump of panic in my heart. Panic because there is still so much I want to do here. Panic because I miss home and wish I was already there. Panic because I'm going to miss here so much. Because I have so much left to learn. Because I can't wait to see or at least be in a more convenient time zone for the people I love lots and lots. Panic because I'll have to go back to eating American chocolate (this, naturally, is the cause of most of my worry).  Panic because life is picking up again and I am having to leave this quiet, safe haven Geneva has been for me to face it.

I read the above quote in my book today. The narrator was referring more to coming to understand that you are a product of so much history and art that has happened in Europe, but for me those words are personal. This time has and continues to be such a mix of emotions, such a time of reflection and realization, of newness and adventure. Here in Europe I am making peace with so many things.

I took a walk tonight around my sleepy little neighborhood, thinking about my life and my time here and my peace-making. Because my time is not yet over, I still have more to do and mull over. Thoughts are only half-formed, my peace not complete, but I am and will continue to be, so grateful for my summer in Europe.

Welcome to Geneva, Introvert

I've gotten in all sorts of trouble for being so quiet around here. Oops.

Geneva. So many things to love about Geneva. Well, of course, it's beautiful here. Much of the city is modern, but some of it is the Europe of your dreams. Old buildings, green pastures, red shutters, cows with bells, chocolate (the chocolate!), cheese (the cheese!), mountains and so much more. I live in a sleepy little suburb of Geneva that could not be more beautiful. Everyday I pass the same two old women with at least 4 or 5 dogs between them. I love that saying "bonjour!" to them each morning has become a part of each of our routines.

The WHO. Getting to be surrounded by people who do meaningful work, going to lectures on things that interest me, getting to learn about so much and be a small part of such a big thing... well, it's pretty great.

I've been reading Susan Cain's book, Quiet, about introverts. As you may have noticed, introvertism is somewhat of a cause I've taken up. But really everyone should read the book. Because if you aren't an introvert, you know one. So much of what she talks about in the book deeply resonated with me.  It's pushed me to examine a lot of my personality traits, approach situations differently, and love some of those things about myself that kind of make me a hermit sometimes.

So with that frame of mind, I've been thinking a lot about my time here. About diving into the thick of things, about exploring, about preparation and caution, about making friends and connections, about reading at lunch or sitting by someone new, about being true to yourself, about finding balance. I wish I could articulate my thoughts here the way I want to, but for reason I just can't quite yet. Maybe someday.

love from Switzerland,
M

south by southwest

sometimes those graduate school things and work things and study things wear you out so you jump in your car and you drive.

Along the way you think and sing and laugh and talk to your friend for three hours on speaker phone and then you get to the place where the peaches grow and it's like coming home because there are people here that know you.

***

I work with women who have cancer.

I watch these women spend their lives going to doctors appointments for months on end. I watch them lose their hair. Surgery, radiation and chemo take their strength like thieves in the night. Then I watch them pull their lives back together. Wearing wigs, doing yoga, working in between treatments, meeting with each other, breathing in and out.

***

The busier I get, the more tied down I get, the more I need to be here in the present and focused, the more my feet want to move, the more I want to leave all this stuff (this "stuff" being my current life and responsibilities) behind. Is it all worth it? Somehow backpacking in the Grand Canyon or eating Belgian Waffles in Belgium seem like much better uses of my time. I have so far to go before I'm an actual grown up, but I'm not sure I'm a fan of this grown up stuff. The choices I make have much larger consequences. I am becoming the person I'll be for the rest of my life. It's pretty heavy stuff, you know?

So in order to counteract such serious business I hide a large cardboard cutout of this season's The Bachelor in my roommate's closet. I have pizza parties with my roommates that result in our house full of smoke and all of us laughing (and coughing) so hard we can't breathe. I dance it out in my room to "Tainted Love" or pound my feet on the pavement to "I Love You Like a Love Song." I read late into the night when I should go to bed and eat brownies for breakfast as I rush out the door with wet hair. I hope these things never change.

move.

three days ago I shut the door of the car, wiped the tears from my eyes, and headed east.

Everyone (justifiably) keeps asking me how I feel about THE BIG MOVE. Nervous? Scared? Excited? All of it? And truth be told, I don't really feel much of anything because the realness hasn't settled in yet. I keep thinking things like "when we drive back west we should stop at that restaurant" or "when I get back to Provo I'll have that thing I left in the fridge" oh yeah, not going to happen.

Although it still feels surreal, the universe seems to be telling me its time for this chapter to end. Everything from world events to my moisturizer running out tells me that it's time to go. The Olympics ended on Sunday--just in time for me to watch the closing ceremonies before jumping in the car the next day. All my roommates & I were moving out to head different directions. As we past into Missouri, we saw the hint of fall on trees with tinges of red and yellow leaves and lower temperatures. I spent last week helping my mom paint my childhood room from the oh so fashionable light pink to a much more sophisticated gray.

Amongst the endings, however, there are also signs of new beginnings. I thought painting my room would make me sad, but really it made me happy. Happy it has a new life, a new fresh start. Darling, sweet Finn was born into the world, a new bright light in all of our eyes. Just thinking about leaving him and his family still makes me cry.

In my life there is so much that is ending. So much that has already ended. But, as I will keep having to remind myself over the next couple months when the loneliness and unfamiliarity settles like a rain cloud over my head, there is so much beginning. Beginning means potential, excitement, hope, newness, rebirth, dreams, laughter, growth, life.

move. that's what life is all about.

rebel

"A rebel she was, but not of the kind he understood--a rebel who desired, not a wider dwelling-room, but equality beside the man she loved. For Italy was offering her the most priceless of all possessions--her own soul"

-A Room with a View, p 118

my trip can be summed up in two little words

good food.

Okay, okay, there are a million other words that I could use to describe this trip, so really this is just a start. But boy is it a good start. 

And don't worry, I did take pictures of other things. 

But only a few.

love,

your "going through amazing food withdrawals" foody,

M

real

last night I stepped out for a run under the Georgian sky (as in the state not the country).

I thought about how last week I graduated and then stepped on a plane and that I'll take five more before my feet return to Utah. I thought about how in a matter of months I will live in a new place, go to a new school, and be on a new path. I thought about how next summer I could be running under the Georgian sky (as in the country not the state). Does any of this feel real? Not really.

Graduated. What does that word even mean? Nothing to me yet other than some abstract idea. But I realized that so many big events in life change us in so many ways, and yet we remain the same. I graduated from college, but do I feel any different? not really.

Oh yeah, and did I mention that those five other planes will take me here, here, here, and here?

Not to rub it in or anything.

jealous

Don't worry, this was totally my home for the last two weeks.